XLII.
“What other good is left to woman, who
“Has lost her honour, in this earthly ball?
“What profits it that, whether false or true,
“I am deemed beauteous, and am young withal?
“No thanks to heaven for such a gift are due,
“Whence on my head does every mischief fall.
“For this my brother Argalìa died;
“To whom small help enchanted arms supplied:
XLIII.
“For this the Tartar king, Sir Agrican,
“Subdued my sire, who Galaphron was hight,
“And of Catày in India was great khan;
“’Tis hence I am reduced to such a plight,
“That wandering evermore, I cannot scan
“At morn, where I shall lay my head at night.
“If thou hast ravished what thou couldst, wealth, friends,
“And honour; say what more thy wrath intends.
XLIV.
“If death by drowning in the foaming sea
“Was not enough thy wrath to satiate,
“Send, if thou wilt, some beast to swallow me,
“So that he keep me not in pain! Thy hate
“Cannot devise a torment, so it be
“My death, but I shall thank thee for my fate!”
Thus, with loud sobs, the weeping lady cried,
When she beheld the hermit at her side.
